


You, Me, and Yancy

by nevernotwriting



Category: A Heist With Markiplier
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, Eventual Resolution, Friends to Lovers, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Heist Mark is a separate character from Actor Mark, Love Triangles, Other, POV Second Person, Partners in Crime, Unresolved Romantic Tension, some canon divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27710746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernotwriting/pseuds/nevernotwriting
Summary: After graduating from a master’s in cyber security, Zero leapt into the first job they were offered. The pay was decent, the people seemed nice, and they even got access to first-class heist gear! The only catch? Zero wasn't entirely sure of the legality of what their gang got up to. When Zero's boss insisted it was time for them to head out into the field, they knew a whole new world of trouble was about to be coming their way.
Relationships: Heist Mark/Reader, Heist Mark/You, Yancy/Reader, Yancy/You
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27





	1. A Proposition

It had been a normal morning so far. Well, as normal as it could get when you worked for a kind but, quite frankly, sketchy group of people.

You pulled off of the freeway, making your way through crossroads and down a path you previously thought abandoned. After graduating from a master’s in cyber security from Caltech, you’d been lucky enough to land a job almost immediately after your project was handed in, meaning you didn’t have to haul yourself and your belongings all the way back home to the backwaters of Pennsylvania. Sure, you _did_ have to haul yourself across Los Angeles in a giant moving van, but a couple of hours of California traffic was much better than a several thousand-mile journey across the States. Over the last few months, you’d settled nicely into a life you could call your own, filled with people from all walks of life, and with much warmer weather.

You smiled to yourself as you scanned your ID card at the gateway to your HQ, thinking of all the people you’d met so far at this bizarre yet wonderful job. There was your boss, for a start. She’d changed her name so many times that everyone lost track and instead settled on calling her ‘Shark’, which she welcomed with a hearty laugh and a flash of a mouth full of teeth. The name suited her, you thought.

You and some of your other colleagues also liked to use unusual codenames, both for privacy and for fun. There was Vakarian, who had an affinity for calibrating everyone’s computers and was a killer shot with a sniper rifle. Next was Shrike, who had named herself after a type of bird known for piercing its prey on thorn bushes. You decided not to ask her why she chose that name. For yourself, you settled on Zero, a reference to your almost lifelong affinity for binary code which led you down the tech path in the first place.

There were others who just chose to use their real names – Jasmine, Gareth, and Mark. You and Jasmine worked together regularly in the tech department, spending hours chatting in between your hacking sessions and gaining intel on building layouts for the heist experts. Jasmine had been on two heists herself, and always came in the next day talking at a million miles per hour about how fun it was, how it sent her adrenaline skyrocketing higher than any rollercoaster ever had.

By her mannerisms today, you guessed she’d been on a _third_ heist last night. You’d been settled at your desk for all of two minutes when she waltzed in, placing a cup of coffee down for you and twirling in her chair with a gigantic grin on her face.

“Mornin’ Jazz,” you greeted her. “Another heist last night? How was it?”

Jasmine began her spiel before you could even reach a hand towards your coffee. She rambled on and on about the thrill of scaling buildings, how good her new night vision goggles were, and how she nearly got caught but managed to make it out right on schedule.

“Zero, you _have_ to go,” she finished at last, taking a sip from her own cup. “You won’t regret it.”

You hesitated, shrugging your shoulders. “I dunno, Jazz. I’m more of a behind the scenes tech monkey.” You’d been on a few scoping exhibitions, but that just involved sitting on a rooftop watching guard rotations until the early hours of the morning. You’d never done anything more adventurous, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to just yet.

She rolled her eyes, wheeling her chair closer to you. “But think about it. You could get some more up-close-and-personal time with Mark,” she whispered, nodding her head to your left.

You followed her gesture. Mark had just entered the office, dressed in all black. He took off his beanie and swept a hand through his dark hair. It immediately flopped forwards again, so he shook his head to one side. The action seemed to go in slow motion, and you tried not to stare.

Before you could chastise yourself for _definitely_ staring, Mark’s eyes landed on yours. He shot you a warm smile that lit up his whole face, and you felt heat rising to your cheeks as you smiled back, giving a little wave before swizzling round in your chair.

“ _No way_ ,” you hissed in embarrassment, snatching up your coffee before it turned cold. As it turned out, it was still very much burning hot. You tried not to wince as you forced the liquid down.

“Why _not_?” She shot back. “Look, he’s _clearly_ into you. He practically _jumped_ at the opportunity to show you the ropes of all the heist gear, _and_ to a rooftop night shift with you. You guys are always lingering by the water cooler together on breaks, giggling away like little schoolkids. _And_ , Shrike told me he asked you out on a date last week.”

You nearly spat out your second mouthful of molten coffee. Jasmine sat back in her chair with a smug grin as you glared at her.

“How does she know that?!” You tried not to yell as Vakarian milled into the workplace, throwing around cheery greetings.

“You know Shrike,” Jasmine shrugged. “She gets around. She skimped on the details, though. So, what did he _say_ exactly?”

You could see Jasmine wasn’t going to let this go. You sighed, mirroring Jasmine’s posture as you began to recount the details of that evening.

~

You got out of your chair and stretched triumphantly, knowing you were just about done for the day. The last thing you had to do was collect the blueprints you’d sketched up from the printer, then leave it on Shark’s desk for her to look at in the morning. You did just that, and dusted your hands off with a satisfied smile as you made your way down the corridor to the exit.

You’d been so caught up in your daydream of getting home, changing into your pyjamas, and curling up in front of the TV that you hadn’t realised that you weren’t the last one in the building. That is until you walked straight into another person.

You gasped at the abrupt contact, shutting your eyes as your prepared to hit the ground. The fall never came. A strong hand caught yours and pulled you upright with a gentle grunt of effort. When you opened your eyes, you were face to face with a kind smile and dark, inquisitive eyes.

Mark’s eyes.

Blood rushed to your face immediately, and you stumbled out an awkward apology.

“Jesus, s-sorry Mark. Didn’t realise you were still here.”

Mark just laughed. It was a deep, hearty laugh, but not an unkind one. “No problem Zero.”

Your eyes travelled back to his from where they had chosen to fixate on the floor. He was still smiling at you, and you managed to smile back sheepishly. His face only brightened as you curled out of your awkward posture to face him properly. He’d been incredibly sweet to you ever since you joined, and you two became even closer after many hours spent on that rooftop in the middle of the night a few weeks back. That night in particular really caused a stir in your feelings, and brought up a whirlwind of emotions you’d never felt before.

That whirlwind started all over again as you realised he was still holding your hand. You cleared your throat and he broke your shared gaze, letting go and scratching the back of his head.

“Hope I didn’t hurt you,” you said, gaining a small amount of bravery and dusting off his shoulders from where you’d collided. A hint of pink appeared on his cheeks at your action, but he covered it up with a barrage of his usual confidence.

“Me? Nah, I’m a big _strooong_ man,” he replied, puffing out his chest and grunting in an exaggerated manner. He curled his biceps for an exaggerated effect, clearly trying to make you laugh.

And boy did he. You doubled over, failing to stifle a snort. Your face grew hotter at the embarrassing noise you hadn’t intended to make, but Mark seemed to revel in it, his grin growing wider with pride at getting such a strong reaction from you.

“Anyway,” he started again as you both calmed down from your shared laughter. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve actually been meaning to ask you something.”

You raised your eyebrows and stayed silent, waiting.

Mark let out a short exhale, running a hand through his hair and then across his stubble. Despite the joy on his face mere seconds ago, he now looked a little uncertain. It wasn’t an expression that came naturally to him; he normally paraded around with a kind yet confident smile as he told you about the heists he’d pulled off in the past, about his family, and as he asked about yours. You’d never seen him like this before, and you didn’t know what to expect.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Look, I really like spending time with you here. Showin’ you all the gear, chatting over coffee, all the usual work stuff.” His voice was quiet. He cleared his throat again, taking a step closer to you and looking into your eyes once more.

“But I’d like to get to know you better, in some place that’s not work related. Would you like to go on a date sometime?”

Your mind screeched to a halt as you stood frozen on the spot. Did you hear him correctly? It sounded like Mark just asked you out on a date. Mark the heist expert, Mark the previous engineering student, Mark your very cute co-worker, wanted to go on a date with you.

You couldn’t lie to yourself - the thought had crossed your mind several times over the past few weeks. When he held out a hand to you after you fell flat on your ass when you failed to use the grappling gun. When his form lingered around yours as he taught you how to aim a tranquiliser pistol. When you sat on that rooftop together exchanging stories and his eyes never looked away as you started opening up to him. You just never expected it to actually… well, _happen_.

A gigantic grin, bigger than all those before, broke out onto your face. “Mark, I’d love to!”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up. “Great!” He exclaimed, a relieved laugh escaping him. “When works best for you?”

You hesitated, remembering your schedule was pretty booked for the upcoming weekend. “In all honesty, I’m pretty busy this weekend. Family visiting,” you tried not to sound too negative. “But maybe after then?”

Mark nodded understandingly, shoving his hands in his pockets and shuffling on the spot. “Sure thing. I’m free most of the time, so whenever works for you, really.”

You smiled back, heart skipping beats as reality set in. You and Mark were going on a date. Sure, you didn’t know exactly _when_ you were going on this date, but it was definitely happening soon.

“I’ll let you know, for sure! For now though, I guess we’d better be heading home,” you replied, a spring in your step as you and Mark made your way to the exit. It was dark when you got outside, so Mark insisted on walking you to your car, even though it wasn’t too far from where he’d parked his own. You turned to Mark when you stood next to your vehicle, unsure of what to expect but not wanting to seem rude.

Mark stood with his hands in his pockets again, beaming at you like before. You felt heat rise to your face again; you’d never get used to him looking at you like that.

“Goodnight, Zero.” He took his hands out of his pockets and held his arms out for a hug, which you more than happily accepted. He was warm and his hold around you was strong but comforting, making you feel safe and at ease. Your heart was beating rapidly again as you wound your own arms around his waist and spoke into his ear.

“You can call me by my real name if you want.”

You let your arms trail away from him as his grip softened. Mark looked surprised, but flattered, by your suggestion. He pursed his lips in thought.

“How about we keep it as Zero for work?” He suggested. “I’ll switch to your real name for our date.”

You nodded as you unlocked your car. “Deal.”

He winked at you as he walked away backwards, almost tripping on his own feet. You covered a small laugh with your hand. Mark regained his composure and waved you goodbye. You waved back, getting into your car and driving into the night.


	2. Time for a Heist

You finished your story, turning to look at Jasmine. She had curled up in her chair, staring at you with her mouth hanging open. You shrugged at her, waiting for some kind of reaction.

“Dude,” she spoke at last. “That is so. Fucking. Cute.”

“What’s cute?” Came a voice from behind. You swivelled in your chair, seeing Vakarian towering over you. He tousled his curls away from his face, revealing heavy bags under his eyes.

“Yeesh. What happened to you?” Jasmine asked.

Vakarian leant against your desk. “Late night. Scoping out a heist spot in Yorba Linda,” he replied as if it were an every day occurrence. Then again, it practically _was_ for him. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Mark asked Zero out on a date last week.”

Vakarian looked down at you with an amused smile, then let out a huff of laughter. “About time. He’s been whining about doing it for _weeks_ during target practice. I was two seconds away from punching him to be honest. What did you say?”

You stared at him for a second, mouth opening and closing against your will. He’s been _planning_ this? Man, you _really_ needed to get better at picking up on romantic hints.

“I said yes, but we haven’t gone yet cause I was busy this last weekend with family. So… maybe we’ll go _this_ weekend?”

“Well make it sooner rather than later or he’ll be walking round with that lovesick puppy look on his face all the time.” Vakarian stood up with a roll of his eyes. “Then I _will_ have to punch him.”

He walked away, leaving you and Jasmine giggling to one another. You couldn’t imagine Mark with such an expression, let alone regarding _you_ , and the thought filled your stomach with butterflies.

“So where d’you think he’ll be taking you?” Jasmine regained your attention from where Vakarian had wandered away.

Before you had chance to answer, the main door opened once more. Everyone jolted to sit or stand up straight as Shark walked in, surveying the room with her icy blue eyes.

“I want you all in the conference room in five minutes.”

And with that simple command, she walked away to her office, hips swaying with confidence. Everyone around you began to scramble their belongings together, logging out of their computers and saving sensitive data. Jasmine winked at you, a silent confirmation that this conversation regarding your future date with Mark was far from over.

The two of you downed your drinks and made your way to the conference room. Jasmine grabbed Gareth by the arm as he waltzed in with only a minute to spare. You paced along behind them, looking sideways when a friendly hand clapped your shoulder.

“Mornin’ you.” Mark’s voice was very chipper for this time of morning. “Had a good time with your family?”

“Morning,” you replied, flattered that he’d remembered your weekend plans. “Yeah, thanks. I took them to Disneyland, kept them from asking too many questions about work.”

Mark laughed. “Good idea. I’m glad you had fun.” You felt his eyes on you again as he spoke, and you turned to smile at him, your heart skipping a beat again.

“You still free this weekend?”

You nodded. Mark’s smile grew wider.

“Awesome. How about we go out for dinner?”

“I’d love to! Just don’t take me anywhere too fancy, okay?”

“Aye aye, captain.”

The two of you entered the conference room along with the others. Shark was stood at the head of the table, which was littered with a variety of blueprints, some of which you had sketched up the week before. Shrike was already in the room, standing attentively next to Shark with her hands behind her back. You blinked in surprise, having not seen her enter the building this morning. She smirked, casting a millisecond glance towards Mark, then back to you. She nodded knowingly.

Once everyone was stood around the table, the idle chatter died down and Shark clapped her hands together.

“All right everyone, first thing’s first - I owe it to all of you to give credit where credit’s due.”

Shark’s gaze fell across the group. “Gareth, Jasmine. Great job on scoping out the museum last night. Thanks to you, we have the full guard rotation and know all the weak spots.”

Gareth and Jasmine nodded and smiled. “Ma’am.”

“And Zero, they couldn’t have done it without your blueprints in the first place. Nicely done.”

You folded your arms self-consciously as everyone’s eyes fell upon you. You nodded, managing a tiny smile. You felt Mark’s warm gaze on you from your side, making you fill with a mixture of pride and even more self-consciousness.

“And Vakarian,” Shark continued, casting her eyes away from you and up to the tall man. “Good job on scoping out the library in Yorba Linda. Might not be useful just yet, but it’s good for future reference. I’ve got a good feeling about that place.”

Vakarian remained expressionless as all eyes fell upon him. He still looked half asleep, but he managed a small nod of acknowledgement.

“But don’t think I called you all in here just to kiss your asses. You do the job, you finish the job, you get out, onto the next,” Shark continued, her usual coldness returning to her tone. “And now, we’re on to the next.”

She gestured to the blueprints laid out on the table. “This is what Zero, Gareth, and Jasmine were leading up to. The California Science Museum has just gotten their mitts on this.” She tossed another piece of paper onto the table. Everyone leaned in to get a closer look. It was some kind of box engraved with an intricate pattern, with a blue jewel at the top. You’d never seen anything like it before.

“What is it?” Gareth asked, reading your mind.

“This box is said to contain a very ancient, very valuable object. I don’t have any more details than that, but it’s gonna be ours by tomorrow morning,” Shark replied, folding her arms and eyeing everyone individually. You gulped when her eyes fell upon you.

“Mark.” Shark’s gaze fell to the man next to you, and you let out a small breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “You’re the best we’ve got. Think you can handle it?”

Mark nodded with a mischievous smile. “You got it, boss.”

“Good. And take Zero with you.”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets, and your stomach flooded with a feeling of dread.

“Oh- boss, no, I-I can’t,” you stumbled, too desperate to care that you were drawing attention to yourself. “I’m just a rookie!”

“You’ve been here for a few months now. You can’t stay a rookie forever,” Shark retorted. Her eyes told you this wasn’t an argument you could win. You sighed, wishing you would deflate on the spot and fall through the floor.

“Besides, Mark’s been teaching you the ropes. He’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“ _And then some_ ,” Vakarian muttered under his breath with a snicker. Shrike jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow, making him double over with a wheeze.

“All right everyone, you know what you need to do. Move out and let these two get to work,” Shark declared. She slid the papers towards you and Mark as everyone filtered out of the room. You cast a distressed glance to Jasmine as she left. She just grinned at you with an eager thumbs up as the door shut behind her.

Now it was just you and Mark. You felt your heartbeat quicken with every passing second, your breath shortening. You kept your eyes fixed on the door, debating whether or not to bolt out and make a run for it. Your car was only across the lot, maybe you could speed home and hide there-

“Hey,” Mark snapped you out of your trance with a concerned look, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

Your eyes focused on him. Your breathing steadied slightly, but your heart was still hammering.

“Mark, I don’t think I can do this.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you felt your throat tighten.

Mark yanked two chairs out from under the table and took your hand. He guided you to sit down, not letting go of you or moving his gaze from your face for even a second.

“Hey, hey, Zero. There’s no need to panic,” his voice was soft as he moved his thumb up and down the back of your hand. “I’ve seen you with the gear, you’re a lot better than you think you are. Trust me, you’re ready for this!”

You wanted to believe him, but your mind was still clouded with doubt. You shook your head. Mark shuffled closer to you, taking your other hand. You would’ve appreciated the sweetness of the gesture were it not for your scrambled mind. What if you set off an alarm, alerted one of the guards, or worse, got one or both of you killed?

“Look, Shark wouldn’t have suggested it if she thought you weren’t ready,” Mark reasoned with you, still keeping his voice delicate. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and the gentle concern knitted into his eyebrows at seeing you so distressed made your heart swell with more than anxiety.

“It’ll be a lot of fun, trust me. And I _promise_ ,” he took one of his hands back and placed it over his heart, “I will keep an eye out for you. I care about you.”

You felt blood rush to your face again, and you couldn’t stop the smile that broke out. Once he saw you were feeling a little calmer, he took his hands back, and stood up in front of you.

“So what d’ya say?” He held out a hand towards you. “Partners?”

You looked up at him, admiring the finer details of his face from this close distance. Maybe some more alone time with Mark _would_ be nice.

With a surge of confidence, you stood up, took a deep breath, and placed your hand in Mark’s with a firm shake.

“Partners.”


	3. Night at the Museum

You and Mark spent the rest of the day planning your heist. You combed over every inch of the blueprints you created, right from the air vent entrance on the roof to the sewers underneath. Jasmine even took the liberty of fetching takeout for you just before she left, though you weren’t sure you’d be able to stomach it.

Before you knew it, it was 8:45PM; time to go. You and Mark agreed to make your own ways there and meet up inside the museum, leaving you to your own devices to get into the building. This panicked you at first, but Mark squeezed your hand reassuringly before departing.

You made it to the museum just after 9PM, hoping you didn’t look too suspicious riding the metro dressed in all black with a satchel full of clanging heist equipment. Not the most stylish way of arriving, you thought, but it was better than a security camera catching your car’s license plate.

You crouched outside the museum in the bushes, gently pushing aside the leaves and peeking forward. Right on schedule, a guard walked past the entrance, idly whistling a tune to himself as he went. With eyes trained on him like a hawk, you waited until he was out of sight before taking a confident leap out of the bushes and running towards the building with light footsteps.

You looked up, readying your grappling gun you’d already taken out of your bag. The vent was on the roof, many, many feet directly above you.

Your stomach lurched. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you launched the hook. Before you could even talk yourself out of it, you were shooting through the air, stone and metal whizzing past your eyes as the breeze picked up and chilled your bones.

You made it onto the roof with a slight stumble, but you were unscathed. Your heart was hammering and your legs felt like jelly, but Jasmine was right; you’d never felt more alive. Maybe this _was_ going to be fun.

Sure enough, the vent you needed was right in front of you. You took the cover off and crawled in, pausing for a moment to remember which way you needed to go.

_Forward_. _Just straight forward_. _That_ ’ _s right_.

You shimmied onward, trying to stay quiet as you passed a few grates. At the end, you found the grate you needed. You pried it open, landing on your feet when you exited.

_Not bad for a rookie_ , you thought to yourself.

You scoped out your surroundings. You were right where you were supposed to be, so you took a second to catch your breath. The only thing missing now was Mark, but he’d be here any minute now.

A distant Tarzan wail caught your attention. You turned to your left, only just managing to shield your eyes as Mark leapt through the roof and sent shards of glass flying everywhere. He stumbled the landing but barely flinched. You didn’t even have time to freak out about the noise he made before he launched into a speech.

“All right, you know the plan, right? Pfft, what am I saying, you practically wrote it!” He grinned at you. Your ears still twitched, listening for guards running to investigate the broken roof, but so far, nothing and no one had stirred. Either Mark was extremely lucky, or overconfident in his entrance.

The two of you ran things over one more time before he got ready to leap off once more, casting you an uncharacteristically dark look.

“Now, stick to the plan, and you’ll be just fine. But if you deviate from it for even a single moment, I _won_ ’ _t_ come back for you. Okay? Good luck!”

He shot you a devilish wink just before he grappled away, letting you know he was just messing with you. You appreciated the humour on your first heist, and you felt your nerves dissipate as you moved to the next phase of the plan. You could tell Mark was showing off for you at times, performing unnecessary cartwheels and somersaults to evade the guards. He grinned at you from behind his cover as you threw a baseball to distract a guard, and pointed friendly finger guns as he swung away yet again to get the key needed for the vault.

It took all your strength not to squeal in delight as you fed the guard dog the gigantic steak you’d packed in your bag. You snuck the keys from her jacket as she closed her mouth round the meat, a trail of drool following her as she happily walked away.

Okay, there was no denying it; this was _a lot_ of fun. Sure, it was a little nerve-wracking at times, but nothing had gone wrong so far. Mark was keeping an eye out for you, just as he promised.

The heist seemed disappointingly short by the time you and Mark finally reached the artefact, but neither of you could contain the excitement on your faces as Mark shoved the box into his bag. Glory would soon be yours. You imagined Mark picking you up and swinging you round in a tight hug after you got back to HQ, high on adrenaline and filled with shared excitement for your first successful heist. Maybe he’d sweep you off your feet right then and there, take you out for dinner early to celebrate, and end the evening with a magical-

Unfortunately, your imaginary bubble was soon popped. It couldn’t all be sunshine and rainbows. The room turned red with flashing lights, alarms blaring in your ears. A look of panic streaked across Mark’s face for a split second, making your stomach tie in knots again, but it was quickly replaced by a look of deviousness. He pulled out an antique gun and… a bomb? From his bag. He gestured to the manhole to his right, then to the door you had crept in through.

“Sewer would probably work, all quiet-like, but, y’know,” he wiggled the gun and the bomb in his hands, “I like a little action.”

You couldn’t resist the look on his face, and any rational thoughts were drowned out by the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

Mark let out a deep laugh from the depths of his throat. “I was hoping you’d say that. Fire in the hole!”

Before you had time to react, he launched the bomb towards the door, clouding your vision with bright flames followed by white smoke. Your ears were ringing from the noise and you nearly lost your balance, but Mark grabbed your hand and led the two of you through the plumes, both of your footsteps losing all traces of stealth as you ran together through the gunpowder exhibit. The guards soon caught up with you, sending a wave of bullets your way. The two of you dodged around wildly, picking up your pace as the exit came into view. You kept running, not looking back until the museum was out of sight. Mark held your hand until the very last second, letting go when the two of you made it onto a wide, grassy field with two convenient escape options; a helicopter, and a car.

You panted and whooped in delight. Going out guns blazing definitely hadn’t been a wise decision, but it would sure make for a good story back at HQ. Who else could say they escaped a room full of explosives on their first heist, all while being shot at?

Mark gave you the honour of choosing your escape route. Your mind was still a little scrambled from all the action, so you merely nodded towards the helicopter.

Mark sprinted towards it, eagerly motioning for you to follow as sirens sounded in the distance. However, as you came down from your adrenaline high, your lower side filled with a hot, searing pain.

Something was very wrong.

You stopped in your tracks, breath halting with dread. You looked down, unzipping your jacket. Your hand immediately dampened as you lifted your shirt, your eyes landing upon something you’d hoped wouldn’t be there.

Maybe you weren’t so lucky dodging those bullets after all. On your side was a small, round wound. Hot blood oozed out of it, sticking to your side and trailing down to your belt.

“Mark…” your mouth was dry as you croaked his name.

Mark whipped round to face you. All the previous excitement drained from his face as he took in your injury, eyes filling with horror.

“I think we might have another problem on our hands,” you quipped. You managed a weak smile before your vision blurred and your legs gave out. You hit the ground with a thud.

Mark dashed over to you, cradling your face in his hands. Your focus came and went in waves that matched the thuds emanating from your side, where your hand was still stuck in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding. Mark’s eyes filled with tears as he tried to keep you awake.

“Oh, shit, no! Zero, come on, you gotta get up! We-we’ll get you back to HQ and get you patched up! You’ll be fine! Zero, please…”

His desperate plea was drowned out by the blaring of police sirens. The last thing you saw was Mark kneeling beside you, raising both hands above his head as the night sky filled with blue and red flashes.


	4. Behind Bars

A chill fell over your arms as you opened your eyes. You were greeted by white brick walls in a large room filled with empty beds. You sat up, groaning as a dull pain filled your side.

This was unlike any hospital you’d ever been in before.

You lifted up the thin, scratchy blanket covering your body and pulled up the striped shirt you definitely weren’t wearing last you could remember. There was a padded dressing on your side, partially covering a huge dark bruise. The whole thing was held in place by several wrappings of bandage around your torso.

Your memory came flooding back to you as you surveyed your injury. You and Mark running for your lives. You lifting up your bloodied shirt. The panic in Mark’s eyes as you fell to the ground, sirens drowning out your hearing as the world faded to black.

You sighed, tossing the blanket aside and sitting on the side of the bed. Maybe there’d be someone around here who could give you some answers.

The door to the infirmary burst open before you could stand. A man in a tweed suit and glasses strode in, accompanied by two others resembling a doctor and a guard.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” the man in the suit drawled. “Welcome to Happy Trails Penitentiary.”

Everything clicked into place. This didn’t look like an ordinary hospital, because it wasn’t a hospital at all; it was a prison. You and Mark must have been arrested after you passed out.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself, feeling tears spring to your eyes. How the hell were you going to get out of this?

“Now, no need to be nervous,” the man spoke again. “We here believe in rehabilitation over _punishment_.”

The way he spoke that last word struck fear into your very core. He clenched his fists as he eyed you, as if he were daring you to step a toe out of line. His demeanour changed in the blink of an eye, and he switched back to a cheery tone.

“The ol’ doc here’s just gonna give you another once over, then we’ll escort you to the yard and you can mingle!”

You looked up at the guard, who you assumed would be the one to escort you. He gave you a cold, threatening look. You gulped.

The doctor, who you prayed was actually qualified, changed your dressing, looking pleased that the wound was healing well and no longer bleeding. She gave you a pack of spare dressings and bandages, trusting you to change them yourself after showers. Before you could offer your thanks, you were hauled out and down the hallway by the guard’s firm hand on your shoulder.

“No fightin’,” he threatened, shoving you into the yard.

You looked around, shielding your eyes from the harsh sunlight. Three people were playing basketball on the concrete, and a handful of others stood in groups, talking and casting suspicious glances towards you. Guards were dotted everywhere. You folded your arms as you continued walking, feeling entirely out of place.

You scoffed at yourself. You were _technically_ a criminal; you belonged here as much as everyone else, maybe even more so. No use feeling sorry for yourself now.

You kept wandering until you came across the only other person who was also alone and looking noticeably uncomfortable.

Mark was sat on a bench, hands knotted together as he stared at the ground. You could tell from here that he was frowning and biting his lip, a habit you’d come to recognise as his “thinking” face. He was also picking the skin around his fingernails, meaning there was a level of fear and stress clouding his mind.

“Mark?” You got his attention once you were close enough. He looked up with a startle, his eyes lighting up when he realised it was you.

“Oh, Zero, thank God,” he breathed, jumping up and wrapping his arms around you. You winced at the accidental pressure on your injury.

“Sorry,” Mark withdrew his grasp, still keeping his hands on your shoulders. He studied you for a moment, pressing his lips into a tight line and blinking to hold back tears. “I’m just so happy to see you. How’re you feeling?”

“Not bad, actually. Still a little shaken, but I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Good, I’m glad,” Mark sighed. “They wouldn’t let me see you in the infirmary. Think they thought I might try and break us out with you slung over my shoulders.”

You scoffed and shook your head at the thought. “Yeah, cause that’d _definitely_ work.”

Mark laughed with you, tension easing from his stance. “You never know. I’d do it if I had to,” he cast you a softened glance. You smiled and looked away. His casually sweet comments were always appreciated, but the intense glares the two of you kept getting from the other inmates brought you back to reality.

“I think I’ve got an escape plan figured out, though. We don’t belong here,” Mark continued, stepping closer to you as a particularly tall, muscular man lurched past the two of you.

“ _Don_ ’ _t belong here_? Mark, we _are_ technically criminals.”

Mark blinked at you with a scoff of denial. “Well, yeah, but trust me, we got _nothin_ ’ on these guys.”

He pointed behind you to a man with a white beard, who was sat talking to younger man with fuzzy ginger hair and glasses.

“See Hank over there? He used to be a meth kingpin. He can make wine in his toilet tank.”

You whipped back round to face Mark with a raised eyebrow and a grin. “Making friends already then?”

“Well you know me, life of the party an’ all that,” he joked, hands on his hips. You rolled your eyes at him.

“For real though, I think these guys are gonna be our best way outta here. Guards are gonna call us in pretty soon, so I’ll lay the plan out for you later.”

The rest of the day felt incredibly short, which you attributed to the prison lifestyle sinking in already. You were relieved that you and Mark had been placed in a cell together, so you could at least take comfort in a familiar, friendly face. The two of you were in there now, having showered and eaten a few morsels of dinner a couple of hours prior.

You were carefully replacing your dressing, taking deep breaths as you unveiled the gnarly wound.

_That_ ’ _ll probably scar_ , you thought to yourself.

Mark gave you some privacy by looking away. You winced as you pressed the new dressing into place, tears stinging in your eyes. Next came the bandage, which you had to wrap around you without letting your dressing unstick. You looked behind you to where Mark was sat staring into his lap. You cleared your throat.

“Um… Mark? Could you give me a hand please?”

Mark looked up, jumping up with a helpful smile as he took the bandage from you. You hoped he didn’t notice your breath hitching when his hand brushed your torso as he passed the material round, delicate hands taking care to not press on too hard. He tucked it in on one side and secured it.

“There.” He smiled at his handiwork, but the crease between his eyebrows told you he was more worried than he was letting on.

You felt your throat clench, tears springing to your eyes. A sniffle escaped you before you could stop it. Mark snapped his gaze up to your face.

“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, covering your face with your hands. “I shouldn’t have told you to go out guns blazing. It’s my fault we’re in this mess.” A sob escaped your chest.

Mark gently took your wrists in his hands, prying them away from your face. His expression was one of sorrow and gentle concern as he slipped his hands into yours.

“Hey, listen. It is _not_ your fault at all,” he said, shaking his head along with his words. He swallowed, briefly flitting his eyes to the floor before he looked at you again.

“If anything, it’s _my_ fault. I was so excited that you were with me, a-and that your first heist was going so well, I let myself get carried away. I’m so sorry. I _will_ get us out of here.” He sighed, trailing one of his hands out of yours and to your face, where he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. He stared at the spot where his hand stayed, warming your face.

Your heart wrenched at seeing him so distraught, blaming himself for your circumstances. You mustered every ounce of courage you had to mirror him, placing one of your hands on his cheek. His eyes snapped back to yours immediately, and you realised how little distance remained between the two of you.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was still a lot of fun. Minus the getting shot part,” you smiled.

Mark exhaled a laugh through his nose, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Mark scanned your eyes for any traces of doubt, then let a smile emerge onto his face. You smiled back at him, rubbing your thumb on his cheek.

His smile died down, a look of serenity and curiosity overtaking him. Your breath hitched in your throat as his eyes flicked down to your lips. He leaned in ever so slightly, and you did the same. His eyes became hooded when only mere inches separated your lips from his, your breath tickling his cheeks as they flooded with a pink hue-

A loud metallic banging noise filled the hall next to your cell, startling the two of you out of your trance. A guard shouted down the hallway.

“Lights out!”

You were submerged in darkness seconds later, left with a yearning heart and a head swimming with emotions.


	5. The Wrench in the Works

You slept surprisingly well that night, despite the heightened anxiety from your situation and what almost happened between you and Mark the night before. He kept giving you warm glances over breakfast, making you smile into your soggy cereal. Despite your current predicament, your head was on cloud nine knowing that he was still very eager to take you on that date once this mess was over.

Once breakfast was eaten and the inmates were allowed to roam, you and Mark got to work on your plan. You’d agreed that rallying the prisoners to your cause was your best way of getting out of here; there were more prisoners than guards, and with the size of some of the prisoners, the lot of you could easily overpower them.

You and Mark decided to work together to tackle the biggest, burliest prisoner first. You hadn’t caught his name yet, but he stood well over six-feet tall, sporting a large beard and a spider web tattooed onto his bald head. You gulped as Mark turned to you with a reassuring nod before poking him harshly in the bicep.

“Hey! You! I wanna talk about respect. It’s somethin’ that we’ve been really missin’ here lately.”

You watched from the side lines, ready to step in when you were needed. You suspected it wouldn’t be long; the man’s intense look of contempt was only getting worse as Mark poked him in the chest to emphasise his words.

“Now I need _you_ to respect _me_ , and help me _and_ my friend break out-”

_Wham_.

The man’s fist collided with Mark’s stomach, and Mark was sent crashing through the wall behind him. Bricks and dust flew everywhere, clouding your vision and making you splutter. By the time the dust cleared, the wall was rapidly being filled in again, and Mark was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart started beating rapidly, stomach lurching.

Was Mark... dead?

Your head started spinning, making you feel faint. What the hell were you going to do now? Your plan had backfired and now you were on your own.

You barely had time to collect your scattered thoughts before a husky voice came from behind you.

“Break out… of this place? Why would anyone… wanna break out?”

You turned around, greeted by a man with coiffed black hair and an array of tattoos. He was sat on a table as if he owned it, looking at you with one eyebrow cocked and a devilish smile.

You weren’t entirely sure if what occurred next really happened; the man started singing to you, surrounded by his fellow prisoners. He took you by the hand as he sang, introducing you to his “gang” with the biggest smile on his face. There was dancing, even more singing – something about not wanting to be free? – and then it was all over. The lights stopped. The dancing stopped. You were surrounded by criminals once more, and now they were closing in on you. You weren’t sure whether to be impressed or intimidated by how quickly they could change their demeanour.

“So, tell me,” the man spoke again, a dangerous look in his eyes as he approached you. “Do ya still wanna be free?”

You gulped, thinking yet again about Mark being launched through that wall. He had to be okay, right? You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if he was dead. You needed to be sure. More so than that, you had friends and family out there. You couldn’t just leave them all behind for a life behind bars, as tempting as the song made it sound.

Family, of course! You reached into your back pocket, handing the photo of your parents to the man.

“What’s this?”

He turned the paper around, almost looking disappointed as he glanced over it. “Oh. So yous the type o’ person with one o’ those… family types waitin’ for ya on the outside, huh?”

You nodded. To your intrigue, and utter bewilderment, his expression took a sombre turn, as if he was reminded of a thousand past hurts all at once.

“I too was once also one of those familial types. Before the incident… ces.”

He tossed your picture behind him with an even more pained look. “But forget it! It’s best if yous just forget about those family bonds of youses, they ain’t worth it! They always just gonna leave you behind, so best to just stick with what’s youses! The past ain’t the kinda thing to be trifled with.”

The sincerity of his monologue didn’t sound like the words of a murderer, despite what he had claimed in the song. You wanted to question him, but he shook himself out of his sadness with an exasperated sigh.

“So what’s it gonna be, huh? You gonna stick with us, or you gonna go out on your own?”

You looked behind him, noting that you still had an audience for this stand-off. Despite the anxiety growing inside you from this tense situation, you knew you had to stick to your guns.

You shook your head at the man. “Look, thanks but no thanks. I gotta get out of here.”

The man narrowed his eyes at you, his expression rapidly deteriorating into one of judgement.

“ _Oh_. So it’s like _that_ , huh? Maybe I misjudged you. Maybe I was _distracted_ by that lovely face of youses. What, are we not good enough for you?!”

He gestured to the gang around him, who were laughing and cracking their knuckles as they backed away into a wide circle. You should’ve felt more terrified, having only ever landed practice punches on your colleagues during CQC training, but your mind was preoccupied by the man’s words. Did he just… _compliment_ you? In the middle of a stand-off?

You managed to narrowly miss getting punched square in the face. You reigned in your wandering mind, adrenaline starting to course through you as the man’s gang cheered him on. You raised your fists and focused on him, lightly bouncing on the spot. Your breathing picked up as you dodged around wildly, avoiding collisions with tables and chairs and fists alike. You didn’t want to descend into violence, but the yells of encouragement encircling your makeshift arena didn’t give you much of a choice, it seemed. Eventually, you managed to land a few punches on your opponent, boosting your confidence as his attacks slowed down more and more.

For an apparent leader of a prison gang, this guy was surprisingly easy to beat. After a dozen landed punches on his face and abdomen, he fell to the floor. His gang surrounded him immediately.

“Yancy?!” Some of them gasped. So _that_ was his name.

Yancy slurred a response. His gang looked up at you with murderous glares. They slowly started to crowd around you.

Your eyes widened in panic. Winning one fight was something, but you’d stand no chance against all these folks.

“Wait!”

Your panic was cut short. Everyone stopped and turned back around, seeing Yancy haul himself onto his feet with a tired expression. There was a circular bruise around his eye and a cut on his lip. Some deep part of you almost felt sorry for him as he trudged towards you with a sigh and apologetic eyes.

“Maybe I was wrong about yous. Maybe I was… wrong about a lotta things.”

He patted his gang members on their shoulders as he went, eventually standing in front of you.

“Look, it’s too late for me. It’s too late for _us_. But I can tell that yous got somethin’ worth _fightin_ ’ for out there!” Yancy continued, his voice surprisingly soft. You smiled a little in relief.

“So what’d’ya say? Let us let bygones be bygones, and let me help yous be gone from this place?”

He held out his hand for you to shake. He looked kind, and just slightly nervous.

You sighed, still recovering from the whiplash of how quickly this situation had de-escalated. You couldn’t deny it; you needed the help, and Yancy clearly knew this place better than you did.

You took his hand with a firm shake.

“Yancy, right?” You asked him.

His smile grew wider, seemingly flattered that you’d picked up on that small detail. “Yeah. And what should I call yous?”

“Call me Zero.”

Yancy hummed with an approving nod. “Zero. Got a nice ring to it. All right, let’s get to work!”

Suddenly, the lights turned a flashing red and sirens blared around the room, making you, Yancy, and his gang jump out of your skin. The Warden strode in with a furious look on his face.

“What the hell is goin’ on around here?! Somebody turn off that infernal racket!”

The alarms whirred into nothing, the lights returning to their normal, neutral colour. Yancy hunched his shoulders and curled his hands towards his chest as the Warden stalked towards him.

“Now a fight hasn’t broken out here at Happy Trails Penitentiary in _fifteen years_! And now,” he loomed over Yancy with a threatening aura, “I hear _you_ started one.”

Yancy stammered through a desperate explanation. “No, Warden, I wasn’t startin’ no fights, I was just talkin’ with my new friend here!”

Yancy glanced at you with petrified eyes. Your heart was hammering in your chest.

“I’ve heard enough!” The Warden roared.

“B-b-but Warden-” Yancy stumbled on, but the Warden cut him short.

“No buts!”

Yancy’s lip trembled. You watched on in terror, frozen to your spot and unable to look away. Dread filled every fibre of your being.

“I can’t have my prisoners _runnin_ ’ _around_ causin’ a _ruckus_ now, _can_ I?” The Warden asked, clapping both hands harshly onto Yancy’s shoulders. Yancy shook his head vigorously, obviously eager to escape his firm hold.

Something snapped inside of you as the Warden clamped his hands down on Yancy like that. Before you could stop yourself, you stepped forward, words shooting out of your mouth.

“It wasn’t his fault, Warden. It… it was mine.”

Yancy snapped his head towards you. His eyes lit up in gratitude, but this was quickly replaced with a look of horror as the Warden trained his murderous glare on you. You took a deep breath and stood tall, ignoring your pounding heart.

“It’s not his fault, I provoked him. He doesn’t deserve to be punished… I do.”

Silence filled the air for a few seconds. The Warden grumbled underneath his breath.

“New or not, we will _not_ be having fights in this establishment! You hear me?!”

You nodded back silently. You clenched your fists at your side to stop your hands from trembling.

“Now, I’ll let you off with a warnin’ cause you’re only a rookie. But if I hear one single _peep_ outta you, outta _any_ of you, I will throw your tuchus straight into solitary! Have I made myself clear?”

You gulped, squeaking out a meagre “mhmm.” The Warden turned to Yancy and the gang, gaining an array of agreements and nods before he strode out. The same guard that escorted you into the yard yesterday shot you a threatening look, heading out the same way as the Warden.

Once the Warden was gone, everyone let out a collectively held breath. Yancy turned to you, planting a grateful hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, thanks for takin’ the heat for me,” he sighed. “Guess I really owe you one now, huh?”

You laughed a little. “You can help me by getting me the hell out of here. Deal?”

“Deal,” he replied. “But it’s gonna take me an’ the boys and girls a bitta time to come up with a plan. Think you can sit tight for a little longer?”

He winked at you, making your heart jump unexpectedly. You nodded.

_Mark_ , _if you_ ’ _re out there_ , _I_ ’ _m coming for you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! I just wanted to leave a quick note to let you know that I also have a Tumblr, where I also post this story and other YouTube related content.
> 
> Feel free to give me a follow! My messages are also open if you'd like to geek out about writing!
> 
> https://nevernotwriting.tumblr.com/


	6. A New Partner?

“Psst, hey, Zero. Stand back!”

A tiny voice that sounded like Mark came out of nowhere, forcing you to open your eyes. It was the middle of the night, so it was pitch black in your cell.

Not for long.

A gigantic crash filled your ears as something impacted the wall. You shielded your eyes from the chunks of brick flying out, coughing as dust filled your mouth. A loud rumbling sound replaced the crash, and when you opened your eyes you were met by a huge red jeep, with none other than Mark, your partner in crime, in the driver’s seat.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Mark was alive, and he came back for you.

Mark shouted to you over his shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get outta here quickly!”

You vaulted into the open trunk, just managing to grab onto the side before you were tossed around as Mark skidded away from the prison. Alarm bells rang in the distance as you drove away from the place, getting more and more quiet until you were on the open road with only each other and a clear night sky as your company.

“Mark, you _came back_ for me!”

“Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I?” He dared a glance away from the road to shoot you a killer smile.

You managed to climb into the front seat and fasten yourself in. “I dunno, I guess I just… thanks.” You reached out and placed one of your hands over his on the gearstick. He cast you another smile, this one softer but full of adoration.

“Don’t mention it. How’s the wound, by the way?” He asked, turning the car onto an uphill path.

You lifted up your shirt, gasping at what you saw. “It’s… gone.”

Mark whooped in delight. “All right, that must’ve healed real quick!”

After a few seconds Mark stopped the car, and you looked up at your destination.

You were parked up next to the cliffside at the Griffith Observatory. Even in the darkness, the pure white building seemed to shine like a beacon, overlooking the Hollywood hills and countless streetlights and car headlights that shone like pinpricks in the distance. You and Mark hopped out of the car and walked towards the building in silence, stopping at the edge of the balcony overlooking the city.

Mark broke the silence. “Nice view.”

“Yeah.”

“Thought you might say you prefer the one back home,” he laughed.

You turned to him, realising he was already looking at you.

“This feels like home now.” You took one of his hands, heartbeat erratic. “Thanks again, Mark.”

He shook his head modestly, stepping closer to you. “You don’t need to thank me, Zero. I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

“Still using my codename?” You quipped. “And here I thought this might be a date.”

“It can be, if you want it to be,” he shrugged, but his eyes were sparkling brighter than all of the stars above as he broke into an unstoppable grin.

You placed a hand on his cheek, and he looked like he stopped breathing. You leaned in even closer, until your faces were mere inches apart.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your eyelids fluttering shut as you closed the distance between-

A metallic clatter forced you to open your eyes and sit up. A guard was banging on the bars of your cell, making his way down the corridor.

“Wake up, sleeping beauties!”

You groaned as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You glanced at the wall next to you; it was intact.

It was just a dream. You were still in prison, alone, but hopefully not for much longer.

You couldn’t stomach breakfast so you made your way into the yard early, hunching yourself into as small a position as possible on a bench. The last few days felt more like five minutes, and your mind was finally catching up with all of the crazy things that had happened. Your eyes filled with tears and you couldn’t stop the sniffle that escaped as you thought about Mark. Neither of you had any idea that those sweet looks he was giving you over breakfast would soon be followed by complete and utter chaos. Even if Yancy _did_ help break you out, what would you do if you couldn’t find Mark? You still had no idea if he even survived that sucker punch. How could you go back to HQ after this, empty-handed and one man down? Shark would surely eat you alive on the spot.

You covered your eyes with your hands, letting tears fill your palms. You heard footsteps approaching you, and felt the weight of another person sitting by your side. You were about to ask them to leave you alone when you heard that very distinct accent.

“Hey, there you are! Listen, the gang an’ I think we got a plan to get yous outta- hey, what’sa matter? What yous cryin’ for?”

You lifted your head up and wiped your eyes, turning to face Yancy. He was looking at you with great concern, one hand poised to reach out and give extra comfort.

“It’s just…” you swallowed the lump in your throat. “It’s been a lot. The past few days I mean.”

Yancy nodded, shuffling closer and rubbing your shoulder. He stayed silent, letting you continue your vent.

“I appreciate you helping me get out of here, but… I don’t even know what I’m gonna do after,” you sighed, biting your lip to stop it trembling. “The Warden has that stupid artefact we worked so hard for, and I don’t even know if Mark’s alive or dead.”

Yancy kept his hold on you, letting you know he was still there. He cleared his throat, hoping to say something to make you feel better.

“Look… you said yous got a family out there, right? Just… try an’ think about them. Figure the rest out along the way.”

You looked up at him again, seeing only sincerity in his eyes. You smiled a little, wiping your eyes once more. Maybe your mind was just projecting your grief, but you couldn’t help but notice that he looked an awful lot like Mark up this close. You also noticed the bruises still littering his face.

“Also… sorry for beating you up.”

Yancy blinked at you and scoffed, shaking his head. “You got nothin’ to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be sorry for misjudgin’ yous. So… I’m sorry.”

You smiled at him again. “Thanks.”

Yancy took his hand from your shoulder, holding it out for you to shake. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “We already did this _yesterday_ , Yancy.”

Yancy shrugged with a smile. “I’m old-fashioned.”

He nodded towards his hand, so you shook it firmly once more.

“So listen,” Yancy began again, reclining against the back of the bench. You tried not to stare as he flexed his arms behind his head. “The Warden’s not around today, so this plan of ours is gonna have to wait. Think you can stick around another night? Maybe we could… I dunno, get to know each other?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, catching you off guard and making you lose words for a moment. A smirk creeped onto the corner of his lips and you forced yourself to sit up straight.

“All right, sure.”

Yancy turned to face you again. “This artefact you mentioned… that what got yous in here?”

You nodded. “Mark and I... we…” You hesitated, struggling to admit your crimes even to a fellow criminal. “… we stole it. From a museum.”

Yancy burst into laughter, doubling over and eventually regaining his composure. “Jeez, is that _it_? They lock you up for anythin’ these days.”

You frowned at him. “What d’you mean?”

Yancy pointed to your left. You followed his gesture, seeing a man with floppy hair and silver wristbands walking towards the basketball court.

“See Sparkles McGee over there? Money launderer, credit card fraudster, anythin’ illegal to do with money, you name it, he’s done it.”

Yancy turned your attention to a dark-haired woman sat on her own. “And Tiny? Hoo boy, yous don’t even wanna _know_ what she’s done.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” You asked flatly.

Yancy faltered. “Well… yous gettin’ outta here, ain’t ya? So don’t worry about it!” He laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. You rolled your eyes.

“All right all right, enough of the criminal talk. That guy yous came in with… Mark yous said he was called? He youses boyfriend?”

“No,” you replied a little too defensively. “We… we just work together. He’s the heist expert, I’m the tech monkey. This was my first heist.”

“Huh, so yous like… good with computers and stuff?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the effort he was making. “That’s a simple way of putting it, yeah.”

Yancy seemed intrigued by you, much to your surprise. You figured he’d rather get you gone from here sooner rather than later so he could get back to his gang, but he only grew more interested as you carried on talking, answering all manner of his questions about your work and personal life. You were taken aback, but it was nice to be treated so kindly. You grew very fond of the kind smiles he cast your way as you talked, his gaze never faltering. The only thing that pulled you two out of your shared little world was a guard’s whistle, indicating it was time to head indoors for lunch. You and Yancy stood up from the bench. He cast a glance at the floor, then back at you.

“Listen, I got an idea. It won’t get yous out early, but it might give you some answers. Tonight, meet me out here before the guards call us in for lights out.”

You eyed him, intrigued. “All right. I’ll bite. What’s the catch?”

Yancy looked mildly offended. “No catch. Just another favour… for a friend.”

He walked away and you followed him shortly after, head full of questions once more.


	7. No Honour Among Thieves

Your mind was still brimming with questions about Yancy as the sun was setting over the courtyard. Where was he taking you? Why had he got such an apparent affinity for you? And, perhaps the most burning question of all, why exactly was he helping you in the first place?

You hummed to yourself. He said he knew you had something worth fighting for on the outside, but that didn’t explain why he’d been so eager to get to know you.

Right on cue, Yancy waltzed up to you with a small smile. “All right, it’s nearly time for the guards to switch out for the evenin’ shift. That means we got about ten minutes in the security room. Yous ready?”

Yancy took your hand and led you around a corner before you could answer.

“No time for questions, we gotta get yous in there. Follow me!”

Yancy peered around one last time before taking the cover off of a vent that was just above floor-level on the side of the building. He gestured for you to enter, following you shortly after.

“Just go straight forward. Make sure there’s no guards around at the end before you get out.”

_Just straight forward_. You smiled to yourself at the familiarity.

When you made it to the end, you tentatively stuck your head out of the vent. The hallway was clear so you shuffled out, holding out a hand for Yancy as he followed you. He took it and stood up, dusting himself off. He led you to a door that had been left ajar, poking his head in to check the coast was clear.

“All right, in here.”

You entered the room where small televisions filled the wall, all displaying a different section of the prison. There were two office chairs tucked under the desk in front of you, which housed a computer and half a dozen empty coffee cups. You turned to Yancy, who was stood with his head in the hallway.

“You said yous is good with computers, right?” He began, keeping his voice low. “Well I think theys keep all the old security footage on that computer there. Might be able to find out if youses friend got outta here.”

You stared at Yancy. You would have hugged him right then and there if you weren’t on borrowed time. Instead, you shot him a grateful smile before getting to work.

Getting into the computer was child’s play for you by now, so you were logged in within a matter of seconds. You managed to find the archive of security footage, and it didn’t take long to navigate to the footage from two days ago. You clicked on the file, and it spread across the various screens in front of you. You skipped through it until you saw the footage of Mark lecturing the much taller man with you lingering close by. This was the moment of truth.

Seconds later, you saw Mark get smashed through the wall. Your eyes darted around the screens again to find the corresponding footage. Sure enough, it was there; an outside shot of the prison walls, not too far from what looked like the main entrance. The wall gave way as Mark landed outside of it. You cringed as his body hit the grass with a painful thud. With bated breath, you clenched your fists, waiting for him to move.

And sure enough, he did.

He stumbled to his feet and rubbed his head. He stayed still for a few minutes, dazed, then walked away with a slight limp in the opposite direction of the building, out of the camera’s view.

You sighed in relief, but an icy pit formed in your stomach as a realisation crossed your mind.

He hadn’t come back for you.

The pit grew, working its way up to your heart and clenching your throat. Hot tears formed in your eyes as you rewound the footage, making sure you hadn’t imagined it.

But no, it was still there. You watched through blurry eyes as he walked away again, leaving you behind. A sob escaped your throat.

_No honour among thieves_ , _I guess_.

The door creaked open further, and Yancy came in with an urgent tone to his voice.

“Zero, there’s a guard comin’ any minute now. I can hear ‘em. We gotta get outta here.”

With a bitter frown on your face, you closed the footage and locked the computer. Yancy jumped back in surprise at how quickly you stalked out of the room, ducking into the vent without waiting for him. He clambered in after you, managing to get your attention with a gentle tap on your leg.

“Go right this time. That’ll go right next to youses cell.”

You crawled along, eventually reaching the end. Yancy was right; the vent was directly opposite your cell. You could hear several other prisoners coming back from the showers, so the cells were still unlocked for the time being. You slipped out and ran into your cell, quickly wiping your eyes before Yancy noticed.

Not fast enough. A gentle hand on your shoulder turned you around on the spot. Anger and sadness were still boiling inside you and you tried to avoid his gaze, but he gently lifted your chin with one hand.

“What happened?”

You swallowed past the giant lump in your throat, managing to croak out an answer. “He left me.”

You took a step back from him, turning away to slump on the edge of your bed. Yancy stayed frozen on the spot with a frown on his face, until the realisation hit him. Letting out a deep sigh, he sat next to you and pried one of your hands out of its tightly clenched fist and held it. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and warm.

“Zero… I’m so sorry.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress further tears. A high-pitched whimper escaped you. Yancy held your hand tighter. You stayed like that for a few minutes, Yancy silently comforting you, until you felt calm enough to look at him again. You inhaled shakily and wiped your eyes, turning to see that Yancy was watching you intently with a worried expression. He offered a small smile.

“If you want, I’ll leave yous alone.”

His offer caught you off guard. Amidst the pain in your chest, you found it grew worse at the thought of losing his gentle grip on your hand or his weight next to you on the bed. You replied with two meek words.

“No, stay.”

Yancy nodded, his smile widening a little. You returned it, regretting it when more tears spilled from your eyes. You were about to wipe them away when Yancy did it for you, gliding his free hand across your cheekbones. Your heart jumped again at his gentle demeanour.

“Listen…” Yancy began, swallowing. “For what it’s… shit, I dunno what to say to yous. I’m sorry for takin’ yous in there. I was tryin’ to help, but I just…” he trailed off, ending his sentence with a sigh.

“No, it’s okay.” You shook your head, squeezing his hand. “At… at least now I know.”

Yancy pried his hand out of yours, moving it across your shoulders. He watched for any sign of resistance, pleasantly surprised when you leant your head against his shoulder with a small sniffle.

“I was wondering, though,” you spoke after several seconds of silence. “Why exactly did you help me, Yancy?”

More silence. You were about to ask again, thinking he hadn’t heard you, when he answered in a quiet voice.

“You don’t deserve to be here. I know yous stole somethin’, but this place… it’s for real bad people. Real, _real_ bad. And… I know what it’s like to not be in the right place.”

You frowned, sitting up to face him. He was fixated on the floor as if he could see all the way to the centre of the Earth.

“What do you mean?”

Yancy hesitated, taking his arm from around you and clasping his hands together. He took a deep breath.

“I… I didn’t actually… I didn’t kill my parents.”

Everything you had learned about Yancy ran through your mind like a film. “But what about-”

“It’s a lie,” Yancy interrupted. “Truth is, my sister did it. She was always the family favourite anyway. No one would’ve suspected her. And they didn’t. That psychopath pinned everything on me, little ol’ Yancy the college dropout, Yancy the lost cause, Yancy the renegade, and they believed her. I didn’t stand a chance.”

His expression grew darker with every passing second, but he immediately softened when he turned back to you. He looked exhausted from years of carrying such a burden, and you returned his earlier gesture, reaching out and taking his hand. He jumped at first, staring at your hand as if it were a foreign object, but he let you wind your fingers through his.

“Does anyone else know?”

Yancy shook his head. “Gotta keep my reputation up with the gang in here. Don’t get me wrong, I still done bad things, but they think I’m a lot worse than I am,” he explained with a cynical smile.

“So that’s why you said family bonds aren’t worth it.”

Yancy nodded. “Don’t get me wrong though. It’s not all bad.”

He looked at you again. Your breath ceased as you observed his features; there was kindness there, buried underneath years of hardship. You sighed, your heart stirring.

“You know, Mark and I were supposed to go on a date this weekend.”

Yancy raised an expectant eyebrow at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “And now?”

“I think I might just kick his ass instead.”

Yancy let out a deep chuckle. “I wouldn’t put it past yous. Sure I can’t persuade yous to stay?”

Your heart wrenched, your expression faltering.

“Yancy, I… I can’t,” you sighed. “My family…”

You trailed off as Yancy pressed his lips together in a tight line with a single, solitary nod. “S’alright. I get it.”

He stood up from your bed, combing a hand through his hair. You followed him, grabbing his hand.

“Hey, it’s not personal. I just-”

“I know,” Yancy turned to face you, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Like I said, yous got somethin’ worth fightin’ for. Wouldn’t be fair for you to stay.”

He patted your cheek gently. “Tomorrow. Warden’ll be back, then we can get yous outta here. Okay?”

You swallowed, heart aching in a whole new way you never expected. “Okay.”

With a simple goodnight and a sly wink, Yancy left your cell. You stood there for a few minutes, clasping your hands together and frowning at the floor. You felt crazy for wanting to stay, but part of you felt even crazier for wanting to leave.


	8. Rooftop Relations

_Several weeks earlier_ …

“All right, here we are.”

Mark stopped the car and the two of you got out, grabbing your duffel bags from the backseat. The slam of the car doors echoed in the empty parking garage as the two of you made your way to a door reading “EMPLOYEES ONLY”.

This was your third rooftop night shift, but your stomach was filled with more butterflies than ever before, because this was your first one with Mark. You’d been eager to spend more time with him after how warmly he welcomed you to the group, and now your wish had finally come true.

“After you,” Mark said, opening the door for you. He tipped his beanie towards you as if it were a fedora.

“Cheesy,” you snorted, walking through the door. Mark followed you.

“Cheesy is my middle name!”

You ascended an endless staircase, eventually reaching one final door. Opening it, you stepped out onto the rooftop of the Glendale Galleria.

The glass sections of the roof revealed that the inside was lit up in a brilliant white. This was your first indicator that this place definitely had a night shift. You sighed internally, your last flicker of hope for an early night dying.

Mark finally appeared in the doorway, laying down his bag and walking to the edge of the rooftop. You joined his side as he stared out at the grid of lights that stretched in every direction as far as you could see.

“Nice view,” he commented.

“I prefer the one back home.”

“Oh yeah?” Mark turned to you with a curious expression.

“Yeah. You can actually see the stars at my parents’ house. And the Milky Way, if you turn the porch lights off.”

“That’s pretty awesome,” Mark smiled. “But who needs the Milky Way when you’ve got LA’s light pollution, right?”

You rolled your eyes with a loving smile. “Funny.”

“Funny is my middle name.”

“I thought cheesy was your middle name.”

“I have two.”

The two of you descended into laughter before picking up your bags once more and surveying your surroundings.

“All right, so what’s the plan here?”

Mark produced a rolled-up piece of paper from his bag; it was the map that Shrike and Gareth had compiled between them a few days prior. Mark scanned it and flitted his eyes up to the roof every few seconds. “Shark wants us to keep an eye on the guard rotation around the Swarovski store, which, according to this map, should be right… there.” He pointed to the largest glass dome in the middle of the roof.

“How about we get a quick scope of the whole place first, then settle in on the Swarovski store?” You suggested. “Might come in handy to know how many guards there’re gonna be overall.”

Mark nodded. “Good call.”

The two of you began to walk together from one edge of the roof to the next, sharing the map and marking out each guard you saw in light pencil. You caught Mark watching you out of the corner of your eye and you glanced at him, surprised to see an impressed smile on his face.

“You’re really good at this. And this is only, what, your _third_ night shift?” His eyebrows raised along with his question.

You smiled, looking back down at the map. “Not like it’s hard.”

“Awh _come on_ Zero, just take the compliment.”

“And if I don’t?” You teased.

“Well then this is gonna be a long night.”

You snorted, throwing your head back in laughter and continuing to walk. “That’s what I said to myself five minutes into what was possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

Mark laughed, following you. “Oh no. What happened?”

You groaned. “I had to do like, ninety-nine percent of the talking. No joke. _Me_. Doing all the talking. You’ve seen how quiet I can be at work. God it was a nightmare, like why would you agree to a date with me if you don’t even really wanna _be_ there?”

Mark shot you a sympathetic look as he scribbled on the map. “Maybe they were just super shy? But either way, that’s pretty rough. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “No harm done. What about you, what’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

Mark paused, pursing his lips and looking up at the sky. “There was this one time I was asked to fill out my birth chart and do some online personality test before the date even started. That was… weird.”

You laughed, gasping in disbelief. “And how did that go?”

“Oh, the date?” Mark looked back down at you. “Technically, it didn’t even happen. My date decided we weren’t compatible cause I’m a Cancer and an extrovert, or some shit.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Mark grinned at you.

After about ninety minutes of slowly working your way up and down the roof and sharing stories, you and Mark finished up at the largest glass dome overlooking the Swarovski store. You were about to settle onto the cold concrete of the roof when Mark pulled out two foldable camping chairs from his duffel bag.

“Did you really think I was gonna let you sit on a roof all night without a bit of comfort?”

“Shrike did,” you replied, standing back up.

“That’s cause she’s an alien. I’m a human being.”

“That’s exactly what an alien would say if they were trying to pass as a human.”

“You got me,” Mark laughed, holding his hands up. “Got binoculars?”

You fished them out of your bag, throwing a pair to him. “Catch!”

Panic crossed his face, but he caught them just in time. “See that? Cat-like reflexes.”

“Sure thing, Catwoman.” You rolled your eyes, looking through your own pair of binoculars.

“Ten-fifteen, no guards,” you mumbled under your breath. Mark jotted down your observations on the sides of the map.

“What time d’you think they turn the lights off here?” You asked.

Mark shrugged. “Hopefully soon. It’s a little blinding.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Must be weird walking through a dark empty mall at night though. I dunno why, but it makes me think of this video game my friend made me play in college. You played as a security guard in a haunted pizzeria.”

“Not that animatronics one.” Mark’s voice was flat with dread.

You removed the binoculars from your eyes, shooting him a surprised look. “Yeah! You know it?”

“Man, don’t even _talk_ to me about that game.”

You laughed. “It had me sleepless for days as well.”

There was silence between you two for several minutes as you went back to the task at hand, until Mark broke the silence once more.

“How’d you get into video games?”

You leaned back in your chair, surprised again at the inquisitive look Mark was giving you. You played with the binoculars in your hands.

“My dad got me into them, actually. He was always really into them as a kid, all the retro stuff. We used to spend a few nights each week completing a video game together whenever I was home.”

“That’s cute,” Mark smiled. “Do you miss Pennsylvania?”

Your stomach flipped. You normally hated that question, but something about the sincere, gentle look Mark was giving you made you want to open up to him even more.

“A little,” you replied, sitting forward and glancing down. “But LA is starting to feel like home. It took a while, but I’m getting there.”

You looked at Mark again. Your stomach continued flipping as a sweet smile spread across his face.

“Good.” His answer was so quiet you almost missed it.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually asked where _you_ ’ _re_ from, Mark.”

Amidst the darkness, you could’ve sworn a hint of pink spread across his cheeks. “Oh, it’s fine. I’m from Ohio originally.”

“Shut _up_! We were state neighbours this whole time and you never _told_ me?”

Mark’s eyebrows raised as he let out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, I guess we were! But hey, look at us both now, living it up in the big city.”

“Damn right we are!” You held out your hand for a high five. Mark accepted it, the singular clap reverberating into the night.

You settled into another comfortable silence, only breaking it to make the occasional remark about the guard patterns. When the lights finally dimmed inside the mall, you and Mark let out a quiet cheer of relief. You dug your phone out of your bag to check the time, surprised to see that it was 12:30 am.

“Wow. Time flies, huh?” You flashed your phone screen at Mark.

“Sure does when you’re having fun,” he smiled back, jotting down another note on the side of the map. “Lights out, twelve-thirty.”

You stuffed your phone back into your bag, turning away to hide the huge grin that appeared on your face.

“By the way, what was that on your lock screen?”

Heat flushed to your face as you retrieved your phone once more. _Damn this guy_ , _he doesn_ ’ _t miss a beat_.

You passed your phone to him. “It’s the view of the city from the Griffith Observatory. I’ve not actually been up there yet, but I found that picture online and I liked it, so…”

Mark raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief as he gave you back your phone. “You’ve _never_ been there? You should totally go!”

“I know, I know. I just didn’t have time what with school. It just fell to the back of my to do list.”

Mark hummed in response, but he was staring at the sky as if he were lost in space. He bit his lip.

“I could take you there some time. If you wanted,” he offered. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet once again.

“That’d be fun.” You smiled, trying to keep your cool despite the butterflies filling your stomach.

Out of nowhere, a chilling breeze picked up. You shivered violently with a groan of protest, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Son of a bitch, where did _that_ come from?”

Mark reached for something in his bag. “LA weather can still surprise you sometimes. Here, put this on.”

He threw something black onto your lap. You picked it up, realising it was one of his sweatshirts. You cast him a bashful smile. The hit of warmth was immediate when you snuggled into the garment, and a faint smell of cologne enveloped you. You sighed happily to yourself.

“You’re not getting this back.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

After another hour and yet more watching and waiting, you heard Mark’s stomach rumble faintly. An idea popped into your head. You reached into your bag, pulling out a large flask and holding it out to him.

“Here.”

Mark took the flask, unscrewing the lid and sniffing with a curious frown. “What is this?”

“Chicken soup.”

“You brought _soup_?”

“Well we’re gonna be out here for a while, what did _you_ bring?”

“… Cookies.”

You shook your head. “Good thing you have me to keep you in check. Go on, it’s homemade.”

Mark took a sip. His eyes lit up in delight.

“Damn Zero, that’s good. You _made_ that?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “Family recipe. Warms you right through to your bones.”

“In which case,” Mark began, a hint of mischief in his voice as he handed the flask back to you. “If you have this, can I have my sweatshirt back?”

“Nope!”

Mark leant back in laughter, picking up his binoculars again. “So, you’re stubborn _and_ a good chef. I’m learning a lot tonight.”

You scoffed back at him, retreating further into his sweatshirt.

“Chicken soup’s my favourite kind actually.”

“Yeah?”

Mark hummed, binoculars still glued to his eyes. “My mom used to make it for me when I was sick. You’d think I’d hate it cause of that reminder of feeling crappy, but the opposite happened.” He lowered the binoculars, gazing at you for a few seconds in silence. “I guess it just reminds me of… I dunno, that I have people lookin’ out for me.”

Your heart felt like it had been lit on fire. You swallowed, trying to summon the right words, but your mind was blank. You managed a shy, wordless nod, pulling down the sleeves of Mark’s sweatshirt to cover your hands.

The next few hours seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes. By the time you were satisfied with the guard rotations you’d mapped out, it was nearly six in the morning. Your eyes felt like they had papercuts, and your brain ached for a dark room and warm blankets. You and Mark packed away your equipment into your bags. Just as you were about to make your way to the door, Mark unexpectedly grabbed your hand.

“Wait, this is the best part.”

“ _Whaaaat_?” You groaned, desperate for sleep.

Mark led you to the edge of the rooftop once more. “Trust me, it’ll only take a couple of minutes, and it’s _more_ than worth it.”

You looked across the landscape ahead of you. You were about to ask what the fuss was about when bright orange hues bled into the sky from the horizon, and everything stopped.

The sun was slowly rising over the city, bathing all of the buildings in a brilliant orange light. Wispy clouds drifted along, interfering with the sunbeams and creating dancing patterns in the sky. Your eyes widened, a small gasp escaping your mouth.

“You know, I’ve never really stopped to notice this before,” you admitted.

Mark turned to you. “Are you glad you did?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah.”

It dawned on you in that moment, after having looked at him through hours of darkness, just how incredible his eyes were. The early morning light blazed in them, highlighting all the brilliant brown tones that intertwined and danced with one another.

You cleared your throat, taking in a deep breath of the crisp air. Mark looked away, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“We, uh…” he shifted on the spot, smiling at the rising sun and scratching the back of his head. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

You grinned back at him harder than ever before. “We sure do.”


	9. Escape

You woke up with the very firm knowledge that today was your last day in prison. This was the day Yancy was going to help you escape. You felt nervous with excitement and anticipation, but a small part of your heart wrenched when you met with Yancy and his gang after lunch.

Yancy was hunched over staring at the table when you joined him, lost in thought. It took Hank nudging him to bring his attention to your arrival. He blinked and sat up, barely shooting you a smile before launching into the plan.

The plan was simple. When you were getting dinner, Tiny was going to push you into Yancy. Yancy would take a swing at you, and the rest of the gang would declare a fight to alert The Warden.

“And what happens after that?” You asked.

“Ah don’t worry, I got a few tricks up my sleeve,” Yancy replied. He smiled at you with a wink, but his smile still didn’t reach his eyes.

You wanted to spend some more time with Yancy before your departure, but he whisked himself away from the table shortly after, claiming he had some business to take care of before your escape could commence. You sighed as the rest of the gang departed, leaving you alone.

The evening rolled round all too quickly, and you were back in the canteen once more. You joined the queue for food, Tiny slipping in front of you. She nodded to you, and you nodded back. Yancy was stood behind you, the first time you had seen him in many hours. His hands were clasped in front of him, a tight smile on his face before he cast his eyes back down to the floor once again. You looked around at the other prisoners, all of whom were eating their food and shooting occasional glances your way. The guards milled around the edges of the room, utterly clueless to what was brewing in front of them.

A couple of minutes passed as you shuffled forward in the queue. You were about to turn to Yancy and ask him when this would be happening when Tiny stopped in her tracks. You bumped into her with a huff. She didn’t miss a beat, whipping round and shoving you backwards into Yancy.

“Hey!” Yancy snapped, pushing you away from him. A look of venom was plastered onto his face, but you saw it crack for a split second before chaos ensued.

Despite her nickname, Tiny had one hell of a pair of lungs on her.

“ _Fight_!”

Every prisoner scrambled to their feet and surrounded you, holding back the guards like a human barricade as Yancy raised his fists. He took a purposefully slow swing in your direction and you ducked, keeping your eyes trained on him as shouts and screams rang in your ears. You were anxious at the prospect of having to hit him again when the lights turned red and alarms blared once more, indicating that The Warden was on his way. You gulped and glanced at Yancy, who gave you a reassuring wink. You didn’t miss his hands clenching into fists as he curled in on himself.

The circle parted to reveal The Warden, who marched forward and grabbed Yancy’s arm. You winced, scowling as he pointed a finger at Yancy’s face.

“Yancy!” He barked, flecks of spit flying out of his mouth in every direction. “What did I tell you about startin’ fights?”

Yancy gulped, shaking his head from side to side. “B-b-but-”

“You have given me no other choice!”

A guard stepped forward and The Warden tossed Yancy towards him.

“Put him in solitary!”

Your heart started pounding in your chest. Either the plan hadn’t worked, or it was one hell of a strange plan. By the time the lights returned to normal and the alarm died out, you were a quivering mess. The Warden rounded in on you.

“And _you_ ,” he spat. “Get back to your cell.”

A harsh grip landed on your shoulder and escorted you out of the canteen. You were pushed down the hallway and into your cell, the guard closing the bars behind you with a loud clang.

You sighed and scratched the back of your neck, unsure of what to do next. You looked towards your bed; maybe this plan of Yancy’s wouldn’t occur for a few more hours, so getting some rest didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Not like you had anything else to do.

You climbed under your covers, looking up at the bottom of the bed above you. What you saw made you shoot out from under the sheets faster than a bullet from a gun.

“Hey buddy. How ya doin’?”

“Yancy!” You hissed, trying not to yell. “What are you doing here? How did you get out of solitary?”

“Told ya, I got a few tricks up my sleeve,” he replied with a smirk, pulling a piece of black material from his pocket. “Looks like, uh… looks like it might be time to break outta here, but before we do, I need ya to put this on.”

Yancy held the material out to you. You frowned at him in confusion.

“Awh listen, it ain’t nothin’ personal. I just don’t want word gettin’ out about my escape routes, ya hear? Cause if _you_ know, then yous gonna tell others, and then _theys_ gonna tell others, and then suddenly, everyone’s breakin’ out, when no one-”

You put a finger to his lips, shocking him out of his irritated spiel. He went cross-eyed looking at your finger, but he didn’t seem to mind. You smiled and rolled your eyes at him, taking the material and tying it around your eyes.

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Good move. Now let’s get goin’. But, uh, watch ya head.”

With your makeshift blindfold securely in place, Yancy took your hand and led you to your escape.

A few hop, skips, and jumps later, you were on solid ground once more, and a light breeze indicated that you were outside. Yancy’s hand let go of yours, and you took off your blindfold.

“And there you have it!” He declared.

You looked around, taking in your surroundings. You relished in the sky above you, having only seen a concrete ceiling for most of the last few days. The grass you were standing on was slightly overgrown, and it tickled your ankles. You didn’t want to take these small details for granted ever again.

“Oh and, uh…” Yancy caught your attention again, producing two items.

“I think these are youses?” He asked, holding them out to you. It was your cell phone – unmistakably yours by its unique casing – and the artefact.

You gasped, taking the objects from him. “Yancy, thank you! How did you-”

Yancy shrugged his shoulders and scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. “It’s no big deal. I just… I slipped by the Warden’s office to _have a little chat_ on the way over here. I saw that thing,” he pointed to the box, “that yous walked in with, so uh… I dunno. I thought you’d want it.”

A smile broke out onto your face, your heart melting. It soon froze again as Yancy casually grasped two of the bars on the gate.

He was still on the other side.

“Yancy…” You cleared your throat. “Do you… why don’t you…”

You couldn’t get the words out, too afraid of rejection. You gestured instead, beckoning him to come with you.

Yancy blinked in surprise. “Me? Out there? With you?”

He smiled, but you could see the torment in his eyes. He glanced at the ground again, shuffling his hands on the bars.

“Nah, I uh… I done a lot of bad things, and uh… this is home! For now, anyway.” He gestured to the prison behind him.

The breeze seemed to pick up and chill you to your very core as his words sunk in. You took a step closer.

“Yancy, you told me _yourself_ that you didn’t kill your parents. Why do time for something you didn’t do?”

Yancy shuffled his hands again and hung his head with a sigh.

“Look, Zero… I appreciate what yous sayin’, but I still done a few bad things. I ain’t perfect.” He attempted a smile, but it fell flat when he looked at your sombre expression.

“Neither am I, but you still helped me. Is what you did really bad enough to stay in here for… for what, forever?”

Your voice was growing hoarse with emotion, not wanting to let go of his kindness and charm so soon. You had only known each other for a few days, but the pounding of your heart told you more than your brain could ever rationalise. You placed a hand over his. His gaze fixed on your hand, and he flexed his fingers. You hoped he would intertwine his hand with yours, but he merely drew his hand back and returned it to rub the side of his neck. He let out another deep sigh, meeting your eyes once more.

“Maybe next time parole comes up, I’ll… give it a shot.” The last four words were barely above a whisper, and you felt your heart clench yet again. You wanted to pull him towards you, hug him tight and never let go, but you couldn’t.

“Anyway,” Yancy snapped himself out of his guilt-ridden expression. “I better get back to it. You take care now, ya hear?”

You swallowed, barely managing a smile. “You too.”

Yancy returned his hand to yours, giving it one final squeeze before he began to pace away from the gate.

“Visitation, every third Sunday!” He shouted.

The two of you kept your eyes locked for as long as possible. When you finally did look away to turn on your phone, Yancy was gone.

A lump formed in your throat. You paced away from the gate, turning around to see only the side of the prison building and a desolate road.

You were alone again.

You leaned against a nearby tree, taking a deep breath in and out. You were out of prison, you were liberated, yet somehow you felt emptier than you had in the past couple of days you’d spent behind bars.

Your phone vibrated, startling you out of your worried mind. It was fully operational, with half the battery still left. A stream of missed calls and messages from friends and family trickled in, many of them asking where the hell you were and why you weren’t replying. Guilt flooded your body, and you made a mental note to reply to them as soon as you were safe and apologise for leaving them hanging. You tapped through your contacts, looking for a getaway, though in the back of your mind you already knew the best person to call.

Mark’s face and number appeared on your screen. He had a big cheesy grin on his face, hair splaying around. It must have been windy when he took that picture. Your stomach lurched as your thumb hovered over the call button, taking one final look around you for any passing cars you could hitch a ride from, but the road was empty.

“Son of a bitch,” you cursed to yourself, locking your phone. Seeing his face again sent your blood boiling after what you’d witnessed the night before on the security cameras, but your stomach still fluttered with all the fond memories you’d had with him. You curled up at the base of the tree, tears springing to your eyes as you hugged your knees.

Just when you were about to give in, you thought of one other solution.

You looked at the artefact, still clutched in your other hand. Shark said it contained something, right?

“Please, _please_ be something good,” you prayed, prying off the lid and tipping the contents into your lap.

Whatever fell out wasn’t heavy. You picked it up. It was a key, and around it was a small piece of rolled-up paper. You unravelled it, revealing a message.

_This universal skeleton key can unlock ANY lock ever made_.

You read the message again, huffing a breath of disbelief. The key looked old but mostly unimposing. To think it held such power took your breath away.

You glanced at the prison gate. Your heart started racing again, thinking of Yancy on the other side, alone in his cell. You glanced to the road. You thought of Mark getting an earful from Shark for failing the heist. Maybe he even missed you.

“Why can’t everything be easy?” You questioned, looking down at the phone and the key in your hands. One of them led to a life you wanted, but figuring out exactly which was which was a whole other puzzle. Your heart was being pulled in two directions, one by a man you barely knew, and the other by a man you weren’t sure you could trust anymore.

Finally, your brain kicked into action.

_What was that Yancy said earlier_?

You heard his words in your mind, clear as day in his accent.

“Visitation, every third Sunday.”

Everything clicked into place as you hatched a plan. You stood up with a new sense of purpose, key tightly in your grasp.

You unlocked your phone and called Mark.


	10. Of Prisoners and Men

“Come on, come _on_ , pick up,” you grumbled, gritting your teeth as you paced back and forth along the grass. The line continued ringing until it was suddenly cut off by a deep, tired voice.

“… Zero?”

The anger running through your veins stilled the second you heard him.

“… Mark?”

There was a pause as Mark registered your voice. When he spoke again, he was choked with surprise.

“Is that really you?”

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am to hear from you!” His words were strained, making your throat clench. “How did you get out?!”

You forced your eyes to keep away from the prison gate. “I… I had some help. Listen, d’you think you could pick me up? There’s no one out here.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. I think the prison’s about twenty-five minutes from my place. Can you sit tight? I’ll be as fast as I can.”

“Sure.” You swallowed past the lump in your throat, quickly hanging up. Now that he was actually on his way, your anger and nerves were slowly returning. You took deep breaths in and out and sat down on the curb, wringing your hands together as you waited.

Sure enough, a pair of headlights approached from the distance just over twenty minutes later. You stood up carefully, one hand on your lower torso where you could feel your bandages coming loose after your chaotic escape. You pocketed your phone and the key as the car came to an abrupt stop, brakes squeaking on the tarmac. Mark jumped out, locking eyes with you. The relief you’d heard in his voice on the phone was matched with his expression as he strode towards you, and the ice surrounding your heart began to melt again.

You didn’t even manage a hello before he wound his arms around you, more conscious of your injury this time. He spoke softly into your ear.

“Are you all right?”

You nodded in his gentle hold. “Yeah, I’m all right.”

Mark withdrew his grasp, smiling at you. You briefly smiled back.

“Let’s get going then, before it gets too cold,” you said, hopping into the car. Mark followed you, getting into the driver’s seat. You leant back against the headrest as the prison disappeared in the side mirror. Your stomach swam with a myriad of unspoken words and mixed-up feelings, your head feeling the same. Not knowing quite what to say or do, you stayed silent.

That was until something occurred to you that made your head snap upright. “Ah, shit.”

Mark glanced away from the road. “What’s wrong?”

“My apartment keys. They’re in my desk drawer at HQ. And my car’s still there, damn it.”

There was silence for a few seconds as Mark pursed his lips in thought.

“It’s pretty late now. If you want, you can stay at my place and we can head to HQ tomorrow?”

Your face soured at the thought of having to face Shark, but you knew it had to be done. “Okay.”

“How’s your side?” Mark asked, looking down at your torso.

“It’s fine.”

Mark frowned. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

The remainder of the car journey was awkwardly quiet, leaving you plenty of time to stew in your thoughts. Words were brewing at your lips by the time you got to Mark’s place. He sensed your mood as he directed you into his spare room, where tension filtered into the air like thick fog.

“Bathroom’s down the hall on the right if you want a shower, there’s some bandages in the medicine cabinet too.”

“Thanks.”

Mark nodded with a small smile, leaving you to it.

You decided to take a shower first, hoping the steam and hot water would clear your head, but all it did was intensify your emotions as you stood under the stream like a statue. You stared at the floor as the water ran down your face and dripped from the edge of your nose, swirling down the drain. By the time you had finished and returned to the spare room, the bedding was made up for use and one of Mark’s shirts and a pair of joggers were folded on top of it. You scoffed stubbornly, not wanting to wear them but knowing it was better than the prison rags you’d been wearing for the past few days.

With fresh clothes on you made your way into the kitchen, following the faint smell of herbal tea. Mark was pouring hot water into two mugs as you came in. He smiled warmly at you as you entered, but you quickly averted your gaze to the floor.

“The pants don’t fit quite right,” you remarked, fiddling with the drawstring.

Mark chuckled as he slid a mug towards you across the counter top, taking a sip from his own. “Good thing they’re adjustable. You can keep ‘em if you want.”

You didn’t reply, busying yourself by cupping your hands around the hot drink. Steam rose from the surface. You stared as it danced around and disappeared over and over. Tension still bubbled inside you.

Mark put his mug down with a sharp clatter. You looked at him, biting the inside of your lip.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he breathed, smiling and reaching a hand out towards you.

You took a step back from him. A look of hurt and concern immediately struck his face.

“What’s wrong?”

The tension finally reached your throat, making it clench yet again. Your question was quiet when it emerged, every word tinged with hurt.

“Were you even gonna come back for me?”

Mark stared at you in disbelief. “Wha-”

“If I hadn’t called, would you have come back for me?” The words were louder this time, tears filling your eyes. You blinked them back stubbornly.

“Of course! I was _going_ to, I-”

“Then why didn’t you? I saw the security footage, Mark, you just wandered off and left me!” You scowled at him, anger and hurt filling every fibre of your being. Mark blinked at you, dropping his head to the floor with a gentle sigh.

“Look, I was _gonna_ come back for you, I was working on a plan. But Shark really chewed me out for failing the heist, she’s been piling on assignments and I’ve barely slept cause I’ve been thinking about how to get you-”

You cut him off with an astonished noise somewhere between laughter and a gasp. “So Shark was willing to just cut me out?!”

“This has happened to rookies before, Zero! But I wasn’t gonna let it happen to you!” Mark retorted, desperation clear in his eyes.

“That doesn’t make it okay.” You shook your head at him, tears finally falling down your cheeks. “I’ll go in and get my stuff tomorrow, but… I might have to start looking at other options.”

Realisation dawned across Mark’s face. “If you talk to Shark, she’ll have you back. I don’t doubt it. Even after we failed the heist, she _has_ to know the team wouldn’t be the same without you.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to weigh up your options faster than your brain would allow. Words emerged before you had time to take them back.

“We didn’t fail the heist.”

Your eyes met Mark’s again. He frowned in confusion. “But the artefact-”

“I got it back, before I got out. It’s a skeleton key.”

Mark’s eyes lit up with a spark. “No way, I’ve heard of those before! This is incredible! We can use this, Shark _has_ to let you back in after she sees you have it-”

“No.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“There’s _no_ way I’m letting her have it, not after this. Besides, I know someone who deserves it more.”

Yet more confusion spread over his face. “Who?”

You took a deep breath, lowering your gaze and your voice along with it.

“There’s a prisoner at Happy Trails, his name is Yancy. He helped break me out, and he doesn’t deserve to be in there. I wanna do the same for him.”

You looked back up at Mark, heart hammering. Mark was staring at you blankly, lost in complete bewilderment as he tried to process your words.

“Right, so, let me get this straight,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “You wanna break _some guy_ out of prison, who you’ve known for like three days, because… _why_ , exactly?”

“He’s not just _some guy_!” You protested. “He was sweet, and I wouldn’t have made it out if it weren’t for him. And like I said, he doesn’t deserve to be in there. He _really_ doesn’t.”

Mark scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Didn’t realise you had a thing for bad boys.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” you snapped, pointing a finger at Mark. “You don’t know him. He’s not that bad.”

Mark gestured wildly, his eyes wide. “He’s a _criminal_!”

“And what are _we_ , then?”

Mark stammered, summoning any words to get you to listen. “How do you know he’s not just using you to get out?”

You glared at him, clenching your jaw. “He’s _not_. He _knows_ the way out.”

“Then don’t you think he’d get _himself_ out if he wanted to?”

Your eyes lost their fire as Mark raised an eyebrow at you. You grumbled and shook your head, draining the last of your drink and stomping over to the sink.

“I have to at least try,” you mumbled, filling the mug with water and hoping the small action would distract from the lingering tension and heartache in the room.

Silence. Mark sighed gently, running a hand down his face. You glanced at the calendar pinned up on the fridge.

“He told me visitation is every third Sunday. That should be the day after tomorrow. I’m going to see him, whether you’re with me or not.”

There was another eternal pause, until Mark spoke once more. “Okay.”

You turned to him. He attempted a smile, glancing at the floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m with you. I don’t really get it, but… I’m with you.”

You stared at each other. There was a sincerity in his expression that sent a crack through your heart. You cleared your throat and nodded.

“Thanks.” The word fell cold and flat, only adding to the sombre atmosphere. You averted your gaze and trudged out of the kitchen, leaving Mark alone.

“Hey Zero?” He called.

You turned back around, standing in the doorway. He leaned against the counter top with his hands entwined, looking at the floor again.

“I’m guessing cause of this, you… won’t have time for our date this weekend?”

Your heart sank as he dared a glance up at you. He looked exhausted. You sighed, shaking your head.

“Sorry, Mark. I just don’t think now’s a good time.”

Mark nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. “No, yeah, I understand. Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah... see you tomorrow.”

There were no words exchanged between you and Mark the next morning on your way to HQ, only stolen glances and tired sighs. You thanked him for the ride as you came to a stop, jumping out of the car before the awkward atmosphere consumed you. Mark called out of his window just before you disappeared inside.

“Hey, let me know how it goes tomorrow, yeah? Call me if you need help.”

You stopped and gave him a nod, still confused as to why he was so willing to help you. The crunch of gravel under tyres sounded as you entered the building.

You wasted no time in striding to your desk, retrieving your keys and pocketing them. When you turned around, two familiar figures were watching you from close by, making you stop in your tracks.

Shrike and Gareth were stood together, staring at you in amazement. You sighed as you sauntered over to them, thinking you’d be able to slip in and out easily on a Saturday. Apparently not.

Shrike was the first to speak. “Heard you got shot.”

You nodded. “Yep.”

Gareth scoffed. “No way. You were just using any excuse to spend more time with Mark, rookies don’t make it back after getting shot.”

Anger and impatience bubbled inside you. “Guess I’m not a rookie anymore then.”

Shrike laughed, raising her eyebrows. “Relax, he’s just teasing. You get yourself out of prison?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You didn’t have time for this.

“No, a _magical fairy_ broke me out.”

Shrike looked taken aback. “Jeez, what crawled up your butt and died?”

“Look, I only came in for my keys. I’m going back home. You can tell Shark I’ll be back in on Monday… probably.”

“Woah, hold on,” Gareth began, taking a step closer to you with an amused smile. “First you fail the heist, then you get yourself stuck in prison, and now you show up just to say you might not be coming back? You’ve got some nerve, kid.”

“Unless you think this,” you lifted your shirt, revealing the layers of bandage still wrapped around you, “means I’m in a fit state to stick around and explain myself to everyone who’s in today, then I’ll be going home.”

Shrike and Gareth stared at your bandage, eyes widening. Gareth took a step back, muttering an apology under his breath.

“Shit. Well…” Shrike spoke for the two of them, concern filling her eyes possibly for the first time ever. “Look after yourself, Zero. I’ll give Shark the low-down.”

“Thank you.”

“See you Monday, kiddo?” Gareth asked.

“Sure, whatever.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as you walked back into your apartment. It felt like you’d been gone for an eternity, but in reality, it was only a few days, and everything was just as you’d left it. The clock still ticked gently on the mantlepiece. The fridge was still humming. The tap in the bathroom still dripped every few minutes from when you’d not turned it off tight enough. You turned it now, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

Your eyes were heavily hooded, with slight bags underneath them. A withered smile appeared on your face as you tried to lighten your mood, but you couldn’t fool yourself. You looked exactly how you felt; drained.

Realising you were still wearing Mark’s borrowed clothes, you wrestled out of them and jumped in the shower, allowing the water to clear your head so you could hatch a plan for your visit to Yancy.


	11. The Third Sunday

You brought your car to a halt and cut off the engine, glancing out of the window. Happy Trails Penitentiary loomed in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out your clothes, patting the skeleton key in your pocket for good measure as you made your way to the entrance.

A lone guard greeted you when you entered, asking for your name and who you were visiting.

“I’m here to see Yancy.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she pushed her glasses back into place.

“Yancy?” She questioned. “No one’s visited him in… well, ever. Follow me.”

The words made your heart sink as she stood up and directed you into the canteen. The all-too-familiar surroundings set your nerves alight, particularly a section of wall in the far corner that looked far newer than the rest. Handfuls of people sat in small groups, laughing and joking with friends and family. Glances were cast your way, and you received knowing nods from a few of the inmates. You thanked your stars that the Warden was nowhere in sight.

“He’s over here.” The guard led you towards a lone figure.

Yancy was sat at a table, hands intertwined and shoulders hunched. He cast occasional longing glances at the others, like a lone kid on the side of the dancefloor at prom. He sighed heavily and returned to staring at his hands. Your heart started hammering, but your brain whirred with thought after fleeting thought of what to say to him, of how you could convince him that he didn’t belong here.

_Just stick to the plan_ , you thought to yourself as the guard caught his attention.

“Yancy. Visitor for you.”

He glanced up, his eyes landing on you. The joy on his face was instantaneous as he leapt to a stand.

Neither of you could stop yourselves from smiling as you ran into his arms. He captured you in a crushing, warm hug, whispering in your ear.

“Zero, yous actually came!”

“Of course, did you doubt me?” You replied, breaking away from his grasp and sitting down. He sat next to you, still holding tightly onto one of your hands.

“Well… I mean, no, I didn’t,” Yancy stuttered, running a hand through his hair. A hint of pink appeared on his cheeks. “I just… I’m really glad yous is here, that’s all. I missed you.”

It was your turn to get flustered as he kissed the back of your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a sparkle in them that you hadn’t seen before, and it spurred your conversation forward.

“I missed you too. I know it’s only been like two days, but I have.”

Yancy shuffled closer. “And how’re things treatin’ yous out there? Did you find that buddy of youses, Mark?”

Flashes of your argument with Mark ran through your mind and you sighed again, clenching your jaw. “Yeah, I found him. Things are, uh…” You drifted, glancing at the ground and scratching the back of your head. Yancy waited for you, seeming content to scan your face with adoring eyes as you gathered your thoughts.

“Let’s just say we’re not exactly on the best of terms right now.”

Yancy nodded. “You kick his ass like yous said you would?”

You laughed and shook your head. “Nah, not quite. I let him have it, in a manner of speaking, but I didn’t wanna get violent.”

Yancy chuckled again. “Lucky for him, cause yous pack one hell of a punch.”

Giggles erupted from you before you could stop them, making yet more heat rise to your face. You looked at Yancy again, noticing his fading bruises. The cut on his lip had shrunken into a barely noticeable line, and the ring around his eye was now a pale yellow.

“Speaking of,” you said, reaching a hand towards his face, “I see you’re recovering nicely.”

Your fingertips brushed the edge of his stubble and you froze, but Yancy didn’t seem to mind. He leaned his head into the gesture, spurring you to cup his cheek for a few brave seconds. Your pulse was banging in your ears as you withdrew.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had worse,” he laughed, squeezing your hand.

A comfortable silence settled between you as you placed your other hand into your pocket, clasping the key. You took a deep breath in, mustering all of your confidence to ask Yancy a very important question.

“Yancy-”

A guard shouted from the edge of the room, startling the two of you out of your shared little bubble.

“Five minutes left!”

Your pulse pounded again. No time to waste. Yancy looked at you expectantly.

“Listen,” you started again, fighting the urge to curl in on yourself as doubt pooled into your stomach. “I-you remember that box that got me in here, the one you gave me before I left?”

Yancy nodded with a soft smile. “What about it?”

“Well… I was thinking. I want you to have what was inside.” You rushed the words out before you could stop yourself and placed the key in his hand. He frowned as he turned it around, observing the delicate metalwork.

“It’s a skeleton key,” you continued. “It can unlock any lock ever made. Y-you could use it to get outta here, and-”

Yancy heaved a sigh through his nostrils as he turned back to look at you, anguish written all over his face. Your stomach dropped.

“Zero… I appreciate it, I really do. But… I can think of a million other people that deserve this more than me,” he sighed, his voice soft and deflated. He looked down at the gap on the seat where your bodies were only inches apart, knees touching under the table.

“Well… maybe they do, but I don’t care. I want _you_ to have it.”

Yancy pressed his lips into a line, staring at the key again. You continued on.

“We can pick you up after lights out tonight. Just say the word.”

Yancy looked up at you again, conflict clear as day in his eyes. Your heart hammered as his eyebrows turned upwards and a small smile appeared.

“Yous’d really do all this for me?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. “Well, yeah. You helped _me_ , the least I can do is return the favour. And look, you don’t _have_ to leave. Not if you don’t want to. I just… I just think you deserve a shot.”

His smile grew tenfold, cheeks growing pinker. “Yous sure are one of a kind, Zero.”

You laughed, glancing at the floor. Your nerves were steadily being replaced by the feeling of butterflies filling every inch of your body. Unfortunately, a second shout from the guard interrupted your thoughts.

“Time’s up. Say your goodbyes.”

The two of you stood up. Relief washed over you as Yancy pocketed the key, but you knew the rest of the day would be long and torturous as he made his decision.

Yancy placed a hand on your shoulder with a bashful smile. “Thanks for comin’.”

You smiled back and wound your arms around him. He returned the gesture with ease, one arm across your shoulders and the other around your waist. Self-consciousness crept up on you again, and you spoke into his ear.

“Sorry. I know I’m asking a lot from you all in one day.”

Yancy chuckled, the action sending vibrations through your chest. “Don’t be sorry. Gets me usin’ the ol’ noodle.”

As you pulled apart and smiled at one another, a guard’s hand landed on Yancy’s shoulder, making both of you jump out of your skin.

“Time’s up, lover boy.”

Yancy nodded and followed the guard, shooting you one final solemn smile as he was escorted away. You managed a small wave in return, waiting until he was out of sight to make your way out of the building and back to your car.

You sat in the driver’s seat with a sigh, doubts clouding your mind once more now that things were moving. Remembering he wanted an update, you pulled out your phone and sent a brief message to Mark.

_Plan_ ’ _s in notion_.

You chucked your phone onto the passenger seat and stared at the sky. The thought of soon seeing Yancy again, this time on the right side of the gate, sent your mind into overdrive. You’d have to make up the spare room when you got back home, in case he didn’t have anywhere to stay. And what if he didn’t show? You could hear Mark saying “I told you so” already. Running your hands down your face, you groaned, wondering if anyone had ever felt this strongly about someone they’d known for less than a week. What the hell had gotten into you?

The sound of your phone vibrating caught your attention. Mark was calling you. You sighed and picked it up.

“Hey.”

“Hey. I just got your message. So everything went okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s set,” you replied, sitting up. “Yancy’s got the key, and I told him we’ll wait for him by the side gate after lights out.”

“Right, what time is that again?”

A bitter thought snuck up on you. He’d only spent one day in prison, _of course_ he wouldn’t remember when lights out was.

“Lights go out at ten,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It might take him a few minutes to get out, so we should wait for a little bit.”

“Right, gotcha.”

Silence. You were thoroughly prepared to defend against his next question, expecting it to be about whether or not Yancy would actually show, but he surprised you.

“Hey, are… are we good?”

You frowned, but your stomach turned. “What do you mean?”

“I just… I don’t want you to be mad at me forever,” he replied, his voice quiet. “Just… remember that I’m still here for you, okay?”

You swallowed, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “Okay.”

“All right.” The speaker rustled with a gentle sigh. “See you tonight?”

“Sure. Don’t be late.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hung up before he could say anything more. You gripped the steering wheel and sighed, pushing down the guilt that was threatening to bring tears to your eyes. Instead, you started up your car and drove away, leaving Happy Trails in your rear-view mirror for now.


End file.
